Candid Shots
by Kelly Holden
Summary: Sequel to Baby Photos. Sportacus deals with his first serious relationship, being outed, his friends' puberty, and his mother visiting, with [relative] aplomb. SportaRobbie, OFCPixel [chan], other het and slash pairings. On hiatus see LJ [link in profile]
1. Chapter 1

You can blame my 6 year old sister for the line about peeling carrots. She does that when I'm trying to cook. It's most irritating.

* * *

"Robbie? Are you avoiding me?" Sportacus called as he slid out of the tube into the main room of Robbie's residence and vaulted over the chair. The chair was, rather unusually, unoccupied, as Robbie was over at a bench, inventing ... something.

"'M busy," he replied.

"You haven't been out in three days."

"I just said, I'm busy. I might be a genius, but sometimes things take _time_ to do."

"Funny, because your sudden onslaught of work isn't the only odd occurrence of the last three days. Stephanie hasn't mentioned baby photos once, even though for the week before she nagged me for one every time she saw me. Also, my ship logged a 'voice print not recognised' error three days ago, and the last time it did that was when you nearly crashed it into the Mayor's house." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared sternly at Robbie.

"Stephanie decided that since you weren't giving up a baby photo, she was going to take one. She talked me into helping her break into the airship, and ... we discovered why you were keeping the baby photos from us."

"You've been avoiding me because you found out I'm trans," Sportacus said coldly, though his heart was in his boots.

"No! Of course not. I really am _very_ busy." He put the mallet down. "It's not _working_ right. I'm considering asking Pixel for help." He rolled his shoulders a few times to loosen them, to no apparent effect.

"Come here," Sportacus said, tugging him in the direction of the catwalk, positioning him in front of the bottom step, and standing on the step to massage his shoulders.

"Ooh," Robbie cooed, going so liquid that Sportacus suspected only the hands on his shoulders were keeping him upright. "I don't suppose you'd consider being my live-in masseuse," he suggested, as Sportacus continued to rub the tension away.

"I already have a day job, I'm afraid," Sportacus replied.

"I'm sure you could fit in a massage or two between rescues."

"I can do that anyway if you ask nicely, no need to employ me to do it."

"How do you manage to be so nice _all_ the time? Even when I want to be sociable, I end up grumpy after not very long, and I have to leave."

"We're different people, that's all. I need to help people, always have. I drove my mother crazy when I was young, wanting to help her cook, but not doing a very good job. Peeling away half the carrot, but still managing to leave skin, that sort of thing. I suspect I'd have ended up doing something like this even if Mama and Papa hadn't adopted me, putting me in line to be Sportacus Ten."

Robbie turned around, his grey, purple-painted eyes hooded in a manner half-way between seductive and lethargic. Sportacus had gotten used to pretending to not notice Robbie's advances, and it took him a second to realise that Robbie _knew_ now, so the professional need to remain closeted no longer meant that he had to avoid this particular intimate attachment. They moved into each other's arms, the step equalising their heights so that Robbie didn't need to bend over. Eyes closed, lips about to touch, heart beating so fast in anticipation, and ... the crystal went off. They startled apart, both staring at the glowing crystal momentarily.

"Sorry. Got to go," Sportacus said, dropped a peck on Robbie's lips, and ran off.

* * *

Yes, I'm evil. Bwahaha. More soonish. 


	2. Chapter 2

I wrote Pixel doing something in here that I only have him doing because of him being the oldest male kid, and then realised I accidentally almost wrote one of the nastier racist stereotypes. I so didn't mean to cast the black kid as doing that particular bad thing, it's young teenage boys I'm actually prejudiced against.

* * *

He was still annoyed about the aborted kiss when he got to the tree house, to find Stephanie in it crying.

"Stephanie?"

She didn't reply, just unwound herself from the miserable little ball she'd been curled into, and latched onto him.

"What happened?" he asked soothingly, rubbing her back.

"P... Pi... Pixel was staring at my breasts!" she wailed.

"While I agree it was inappropriate, surely it isn't that upsetting?"

"I ... I heard him tell Stingy that he hoped I didn't realise I need a bra any time soon, because he likes looking when I dance."

"Oh. That's _not_ nice."

"I thought he was my friend!"

"I'll have a talk with him," Sportacus promised, quietly furious at the boy. She sniffled, pulled back, and retrieved a handkerchief from her bag to wipe her nose with.

"Thank you, Sportacus." She sniffed again. "um... I'm-sorry-but-I-went-to-find-a-baby-photo-and-I-found..."

"I know. Robbie told me."

"You were really a girl when you were little?"

"Not really. Even when I was little, I didn't feel like I was a girl, even though everybody said I was."

"It was really mean of your dad to make you wear the skirt with the Sportacus costume."

"Oh, I hated Papa that day. He still thinks of how I look now as 'that thing Ten did to herself'."

She hugged him. "You look how you're supposed to now."

"I would have preferred to be taller, but thank you. I'd better go talk to Pixel now, and I believe you need to go shopping for foundation garments."

* * *

Pixel was sitting under a tree, playing a portable video game of some sort.

"Pixel."

"Oh, hello Sportacus," Pixel replied, pausing his game.

"What do you know about the history of the Fey War?"

"Uh... well, when the realms collided, the humans and the elves-and-pixies didn't get on real well, and... I'm not sure. It was a long time ago now."

"You're probably aware that humans find pixies magnetically sexually attractive?"

Pixel nodded. "It's kinda hard to miss."

"Fey culture has always been a symbiosis between elf and pixie, in which we protect them, with our lives if necessary, and they look after us. A lot of our reason for the war was pixie women, and the way human men acted towards them. We did not take kindly to the sexual objectification of the most precious and vulnerable members of our society, just as I imagine humans would have no problems going to war against a society of paedophiles."

"Is there a point to this?" Pixel asked, confused.

"The connection is still there, even in part-fey. Even in the magical desert that is a town full of humans.

"I was not pleased to hear that instead of informing Stephanie she needed support, you chose to keep quiet and take sensual pleasure in her accidental immodesty," Sportacus said, vaguely aware he was _looming._

"How did you... I mean..."

"Stephanie overheard you talking to Stingy. Her distress was enough to set off my crystal."

"I'm sorry," said Pixel in a small voice.

"Don't apologise to me, apologise to her," Sportacus replied. "Pixel, the need to protect pixies is in my genes, as primal as hunger. The need to help people in general is just a personality trait. Don't push me again on this one, got it?"

Pixel nodded, looking frankly terrified.

"Look, I do understand it's difficult, growing up," Sportacus said more gently. "Being attracted to Stephanie is perfectly natural and nothing you have a choice about. Even without the pixie blood she'd be an attractive young lady. But objectifying or taking advantage of her, or any person you're attracted to, is something you do have a choice in, and it's not acceptable."

"Okay," said Pixel timidly, staring at the ground.

"Good boy," Sportacus said, patted him on the shoulder, and bounced off to get back to Robbie.


	3. Chapter 3

We don't stay in solid Sportacus POV this chapter. We also have a paragraph of Robbie POV, and a full scene from the POV of a shop assistant. This ended up long for some reason. I've written non-drabble stories shorter than this chapter

* * *

"Robbie, I'm back."

"So, what was the trouble?" Robbie asked over the back of his chair.

Sportacus told him.

"Teenage boys are asses," Robbie said by way of reply.

"I think it's the testosterone," Sportacus said, sitting on the arm of the chair. "I was well-behaved during my 'natural' puberty, it was when I began hormone therapy that I got ... difficult."

"I find it hard to imagine _you_ being difficult," Robbie replied, 'sneaking' an arm around his waist.

"Relatively, you understand. I was still ridiculously nice by the standard of my peers. The elves being a warrior species, adolescent acting-out that would land a human or pixie youngster in a lot of trouble tends to be dismissed so long as nobody is seriously hurt." Sportacus gathered his courage, and slid off the arm into Robbie's lap.

"You're heavy," Robbie murmured, as Sportacus moved so he was straddling his lap.

"Who, me?" Sportacus asked with a smile, cupped his chin, and kissed him, properly this time.

Robbie melted into it, submissively giving Sportacus control.

Sportacus pulled away, nipping at Robbie's bottom lip as he went. "Interesting..."

"I should certainly hope so," Robbie replied. "I'd hate to think kissing me is boring."

"Oh, it's definitely not boring, I just wasn't quite expecting _submission_."

Robbie stiffened up, looking panicked. "You don't mind, do you?"

Sportacus nibbled at his bottom lip again. "I don't mind. Promise." He felt Robbie relax, and added, "Do you have a bed anywhere in this place?"

* * *

"Y'know, when you said you were pre-op, I was half-expecting socks," Robbie said, sleepy and sated, and trying to ignore the fact his partner was doing naked chin-ups using a pipe that crossed the ceiling.

"I wear tight pants," Sportacus replied. "People would notice the lack of definition."

"Good point," said Robbie, and yawned. His last definite memory before he drifted off was Sportacus jumping down, kissing him on the cheek, and telling him to go to sleep.

* * *

On his way back to the airship, Sportacus ran into Stephanie.

"Doesn't shopping normally take longer than that?" he asked.

Stephanie shook her head. "I haven't started yet. Uncle's busy, and it's not as if I have enough money of my own," she said, shaking the contents of her change purse into her hand as illustration, all silver except for two small golden coins. "Train fare alone would clean me out." She tipped the money back, and then looked up, eyes suddenly bright. "Could you take me?"

"Would you have asked that four days ago?" Sportacus asked warily.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm a _man_."

"So's Uncle Milford."

"But he's your _guardian_."

"You're my_ elf_."

"It will still look odd to most people," Sportacus warned.

"I don't _care,_" Stephanie replied. "Its not like there are any clothes shops in Lazytown, so people thinking odd things won't know who we are, and people who do know us wouldn't think odd things anyway."

"All right then," Sportacus said, sighing.

"_Do_ you have any experience with this?" Stephanie asked, as they headed towards the airship together.

"Far more than I want," Sportacus admitted quietly. "I didn't transition until I was an adult."

He turned his head, to see Stephanie staring at his chest, and then turning red as she realised she'd been caught.

"You don't look as if..."

"Mastectomy," he replied shortly.

* * *

Lillian looked up at the sound of the bell on the door and smiled automatically.

"Good-afternoon-how-may-I-help-you?"

The customers were a man, short, tanned and _built, _with an odd moustache, and a slender young teenage girl, easily as tall as him, an exotic mix of species and ethnicity hinted at by her olive skin, dark eyes and bubblegum pink hair.

The man fidgeted uncomfortably, and pushed the girl forward with a hand between her shoulder blades.

"I need a bra," she squeaked.

"We have a wide selection of those," Lillian replied. "However... you're a pixie, aren't you?"

"Pixie-blooded."

"Well, pixie-fit garments are rarely called-for in Slothsville. They may have to be ordered in from Sleepy City."

"Is there really that much of a difference?" the man asked.

"It's all the same sizing scheme, but the proportions typical of the three peoples differ somewhat," she said. "But I can measure her, and we can go from there."

"Okay," said the girl. She took her bag off, and handed it to him. "Hold this, Sportacus."

Lillian picked up her tape measure, and ushered her into the fitting room.

The girl was built typically pixie, but the measurements were just barely within the range of a few human manufacturers, and she scuttled off to find something appropriate.

She was on her way back with some likely options, when Sportacus stopped her, and mutely fished a pink lace bra out of the otherwise beige-and-white pile before putting it back on the counter.

"Sir?" she queried.

"I don't think she needs that one," he replied.

"If you insist, sir, but only a few human manufacturers go to a band this small, especially when you factor in cup size, and I feel we would achieve the best fit if we try the largest possible variety of styles on her."

"If you really think so. It's just..." he sighed. "It looks tarty."

"I highly doubt anybody will see it," she reassured him, puzzled at his opinion of the the bra, given that it looked perfectly appropriate for a young girl to her.

"All right," he said, and put it back.

* * *

The pink one turned out to be among the best fitting, to Sportacus's dismay, but he kept his mouth shut and paid. The fitter's confusion at his reaction to the garment had reminded him he was an outsider with a different cultural basis. It seemed _wrong_ to him, a little girl owning something that looked like that, but neither Stephanie nor the fitter had blinked an eye. Underclothes for women were _supposed_ to be supporting and practical, and the only reason he could see for wanting them in lace or bright colours was the intention to wear them for an audience.

He remembered his mother's embarrassment and horror when he had discovered a similar undergarment while helping with the laundry one day as a child. He'd handled Mama's normal underclothes, the ones like most of what he'd just bought for Stephanie, before, it was only the coloured lacy garment she'd worried about.

When he'd been old enough to need the accursed things himself, there had been nothing like that in the store, it was only on his first blushing visit to the adult shop on the outskirts of his hometown that he saw something similar. Yet the human store had had them on display all over the place.

"Sportacus?" Stephanie asked, startling Sportacus out of his musings.

"Yes?" he replied.

"What were you thinking about? You looked a little bit sad."

"I sometimes forget I'm not really from around here, that's all."

"I guess it's a long way home, huh?"

"Indeed. But I didn't become a hero to protect my hometown. Most of the people there are _more _physically capable than me, after all."


	4. Chapter 4

Sportacus lifted Stephanie down the last few steps of the ladder. "Shopping!" he called, and flipped backwards to catch the first bag before it hit the ground. He was on his way to catch the second, when somebody got in the way.

She caught the bag and handed it to Stephanie. "There you are, dear."

"Thank you," Stephanie replied.

"Mama! I wasn't expecting to see you," Sportacus exclaimed, pleased to see her.

"My decision to visit was rather last minute," Mama replied.

"What happened, Mama?" Sportacus asked. "Where's Papa?"

"Blancville, I think."

"What's he doing in Albia?"

"Magic knows, my dear."

"Mama," said Sportacus sternly, crossing his arms.

"We've separated."

"Oh," said Sportacus in surprise. "I didn't realise..."

"Let's just say he's not in Blancville _alone_, shall we, Alex?" she replied in Fey

"Oh, dear..." He cleared his throat. "Mama, this is my friend Stephanie. Stephanie, this is my mother, Nina."

"Pleased to meet you," Stephanie said, offering her hand to be shaken.

"Likewise," said Mama, taking it.

"I think you'd better go now," Sportacus said, handing Stephanie the bag he still held.

"Okay. Thanks Sportacus!" she said, and skipped off home.

"She's a lovely little pixie, isn't she?" Mama said, again in Fey.

"Yes, she is. Are you going to tell me what happened with Papa?"

Mama shrugged. "Nine left me for another woman. A human one, after decades of believing that being part-human made _us_ inferior."

"You don't sound surprised."

"At the cheating? He's been doing it for years. It was the girl's species that threw me."

"Oh, Mama," said Sportacus, gathering her into a hug.

* * *

"I can see what you're doing here," Pixel said, squinting at the workings of Robbie's latest invention. "I think you go the workings right, but..." he sighed, and sat up, pulling his goggles back up. "Are you sure got the right incantation? Electronic magic can be tricky, and I'm not nearly a strong enough warlock to examine somebody else's spells on that level."

"I don't _know_," Robbie said. "Everything I know says it ought to work, except it doesn't. Electronics isn't my normal specialty, maybe there's some _trick_ I'm missing." He stood and paced blindly across Pixel's room, running into the wall. "I meant to do that."

Pixel ignored the incident. "You could _un-_enchant it, and then re-enchant it. Like rebooting a computer."

"I can't guarantee it won't explode if I do that. I enchant as I build, so the magic is kinda holding it together."

"Okay. Not a good idea then." He sighed. "I'm not sure what we _can_ do. The only other magic users in Lazytown are the Fey..."

"Absolutely not. Have you forgotten the _code of secrecy_? We _cannot_ allow the fey to know there are magic users among the humans."

"But they're our friends. Surely..."

"Do you know why I gave up trying to get rid of Sportacus? Because I was getting so _desperate_ I pulled out several tricks that were so obviously magical, that only willful blindness about human magic kept people from realising. I'm still surprised nobody thought _de-ageing him twenty years_ might have something to do with magic. I was ridiculously close to _giving the whole order away_ for a bit of peace and quiet." He folded himself awkwardly back into Ziggy's normal chair.

"I thought you decided to be nice."  
"Oh, that came later. When I realised I _liked _Sportacus," Robbie said, and then turned red and buried his face in his hands. "I didn't mean to say that," he added, voice muffled.

Pixel laughed. "I think pretty much everyone noticed _that_ once we stopped only seeing you when you were trying to pull something."

Robbie pulled his face out of his hands. "Everyone?"

"Well, not Ziggy. He's still just a kid, but well, I think so."

"Sportacus?" Robbie asked apprehensively.

"I'm fairly certain he's been pretending not to notice so he won't hurt your feelings," Pixel said cheerfully, then realised he shouldn't have. "Uh..."

Robbie waved a hand dismissively. "Forget it. I'm going home." He stood, grabbed the invention, tucked it under his arm, and stamped out.

* * *

On the way home, Robbie came across Sportacus and a woman. The woman was older, but still handsome, her eyes crinkled around the corners with many years' worth of smiles, the short black hair beneath the green stocking cap turning to salt-and-pepper, her frame solid as elves' usually are. She was arm-in-arm with Sportacus, as he babbled enthusiastically in what sounded like the Fey tongue.

"Robbie!" said Sportacus excitedly when he spotted him.

"Hello," Robbie replied, without enthusiasm.

"Robbie, I'd like you to meet my mother, Nina. She dropped in for a visit, and I'm showing her around. Mama, this is Robbie."

"Hello, young man," she said pleasantly, offering her hand to be shaken.

Robbie took it limply for a moment. "Hi."

"Robbie," Sportacus reprimanded him, with a laugh in his voice.

"I've been to see Pixel about this," he held up his invention, "and I'm not feeling very social at the moment, so if you'll excuse me," Robbie said, and continued home without waiting for a response.


	5. Chapter 5

At one point chapter 4 had 33 hits and no reviews. I can't say I was terribly happy about that. I'm dreadfully insecure, and thus quickly became paranoid that the previous three chapters' apparent quality fell into the toilet, which is why I came out with a nonsensical crossover (which wasn't even funny) before I could write any more of this (well, I did write one scene, then realised it was about three chapters too early). If it did (or does), can you please _tell_ me so I have some idea of what to do?

Also, getting into the head of a straight woman who is having sexual thoughts is tricky when you're a romantic lesbian with a fairly low libido. Nina is a dirty old lady.

* * *

"I apologise for Robbie, Mama, he's a bit prickly at times," Sportacus said in Fey. 

"That's quite all right. I don't always feel like company either."

There was a pause. "What do you want to do now?" he asked.

"I think I saw a lake to the west from the train."

"You want to go swimming? That's a great idea. Shall I go invite my friends?

"That's a good idea. That way I can meet them all at once. I'll go put my things away, you go find them and I'll meet you here in ... oh, half an hour?"

"I'll see you then."

* * *

Sportacus made the rounds and all his young friends agreed readily. The weather was quite warm, after all. Robbie was a more difficult prospect. 

"Go swimming as a group? Do you not _remember_ me storming past fifteen minutes ago and practically snubbing your mother?" he asked incredulously.

"I was hoping you'd calmed down. Besides, _swimming trunks_."

Robbie sat up straight. "Okay, you talked me into it."

* * *

Sportacus arrived at the park when the half hour was up to discover Stephanie had taken 'changing' a little more literally than the other kids. They'd all put their ordinary clothes, or at least their t-shirts, back on on top of their swimming things. Stephanie's outfit consisted of a pink bikini and a tiny aqua sarong that was, amazingly, shorter than her ordinary skirt. He clamped down on the protective urge to tell her to put some more clothes on before Pixel caught sight of her, and checked the children all had towels and drinking water. 

"We all ready?" he asked. There was a chorus of affirmatives.

"Let's go then," Sportacus said, and they set off.

"Wait a second!" Robbie objected. "We're _walking_? All the way to the lake?"

"Well, how _else_ are we going to get there?" Stephanie asked. "Besides, it will only take ten minutes."

Robbie sighed. "Good point," he said, and joined the back of the group.

* * *

Pixel had to admit that Stephanie looked hot, especially dripping wet, but the sight was somewhat ruined by Sportacus's not-so-veiled threat that morning. Nina was hot for an old lady, which he felt rather odd about anyway, and then he couldn't imagine Sportacus would be any less protective of his mom. Mind you, he wasn't the only one taking advantage of the smaller quantity of clothing. 

So far he'd noticed Trixie and Robbie not-so-subtly checking out Sportacus (Pixel still couldn't believe that Robbie hadn't realised how _obvious_ he was), and Nina checking out Robbie (tough luck _there_, lady).

He was resting on the bank with his feet in the water when he noticed something else. Sportacus had almost-invisible half-moon scars along the lower edge of both his pecs. 'I wonder what happened there? They look ... surgical,' he thought, and grabbed his wrist computer to discreetly record the marks for further analysis.

* * *

Nina couldn't fault Alex's taste in men. Granted, he was surly for a human, and a little softer around the middle than she would consider for herself, but he had a nice butt, and seemed a good balance for Alex. She wondered how long it would take Alex to tell her that Robbie was his lover. She also wondered how old the dark young man with the orange hair was, because he was _tasty_. 

She sat down beside him on the bank. "What are you up to?" she asked when she noticed he was fiddling with his wrist computer thing.

"Just saving some data for later analysis," he replied absently.

"I see. Banana?" she asked, holding out the banana she'd gotten from the picnic basket before sitting down.

"No, thank you. Aren't you supposed to not swim for an hour after eating, or something?"

"Ah, yes, humans are rather prone to muscle cramps, aren't you? I forgot about that, apologies," Nina said, and peeled the banana herself. She was quite hungry, but when she realised what shape the sports candy she held was, couldn't resist playing. She licked the tip, took the tiniest bite off the end, and then glanced sideways at him. His colouring was too dark for her to be sure of a blush, but he did look flustered. She took another small bite, and licked her lips obviously, savouring both the sweet creamy taste and his reaction. He squirmed, dashed over to his backpack to put the computer away, then raced back into the water until he was up to his waist. She grinned into the banana. She still had it.


	6. Chapter 6

Whoa. Look what griping about comments got me. This is now my most reviewed fic since '02. Must do that more often (kidding!). I'm not trying to be a chapter-withholding _prima donna, _but I did kinda sound like one, didn't I? I do love you all, you know (except for 'Becca', who I apparently need to have a chat with about transfolk and how biology ＝/ ＝ 'real' gender).

* * *

"Oh, c'mon Pinkie, don't be a prude. Sportacus is _hot._" 

"You might think so," Stephanie replied, half-heartedly splashing her friend. "I am allowed to have different opinions to you, aren't I?"

"Puh-lease. That level of hotness is _universal_. Unless you don't like boys, that is," Trixie said, shooting her friend a sideways glance. Any chance? Any at all?

"I like boys just fine. Human boys, Pixie boys. But Sportacus is Elven."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Trixie asked, a little disappointed.

"Pixies and Elves just ... we just don't, okay? Have you ever met or heard of somebody who was part-Pixie, part-Elf? We're not compatible."

"Oh. That's kinda odd."

"Well, it's true. Asking me if I find Sportacus hot is on the same level of weirdness as asking if I fancy Ziggy."

"But Ziggy's just a kid ... Oh, I see."

Stephanie looked up and squinted in the glare of the afternoon's sun on the water. "Hey, Pixel's coming out here."

"Hi, Pixel," Trixie said.

He sat down on the bottom without a word, head disappearing beneath the water, and reappeared, dreads plastered to his skull, just as Trixie was starting to worry.

"Pixel?" Stephanie asked, sounding concerned.

"I'm fine," he muttered, not really sounding it.

* * *

"Are you all right, dear?" Nina asked Pixel quietly on the way back into town. He'd fallen far enough behind that there was little chance of being overheard, and it made him nervous. 

"Fine," he replied, surprised. "Why?"

"You did seem flustered. I wasn't trying to discomfit you, Pixel," she replied. She looked so harmless, fully dressed, stocking cap flopping in her eyes, and not a banana in sight.

"That's all right," he assured her, though still somewhat uneasy.

"Wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable at all," she murmured, a dangerous smile crossing her face suddenly, "but you make such adorable prey." She leaned down to his height, and Pixel suddenly realised he'd somehow been backed into a tree. She closed the gap between their lips and Pixel lost the ability to think.

* * *

Sportacus looked back as the group neared the town and realised that Pixel and Mama were gone. "Robbie, could you get the kids back to town? I'm going back to look for Pixel and Mama," he said. 

"Wait, you're leaving _me_ in charge of the field trip?"Robbie asked. "I'm not sure I count as a responsible adult."

"Close enough," Sportacus said, and ran back towards the lake to find his mother and friend.

He found them as he passed a large tree. Mama had Pixel pressed to it, kissing him, a hand sneaking below his shirt. His first thought was any grown child's distaste at witnessing a display of parental sexuality, but knowing as he did that human adolescents were an entirely different matter to elven ones, knew it had to stop now. He flipped the last few metres over to them, and pulled Mama off Pixel.

"Pixel," he said, layering his voice with obedience magic, something he'd _never_ resorted to in Lazytown before, "Go home. Now."

Pixel was, thankfully, susceptible, and skedaddled instantly.

"What are you doing interfering with the hunt?" Mama hissed in Fey. "Willing prey is rightful prey."

"Not by the laws of this land," Sportacus replied in English. "Human land, human youngster, human laws. You may _live_ by the elven custom of might and magic making right, but he doesn't even know of it. He has no idea how to react to being 'hunted' by an elven warrior. He doesn't know to _fight_ if he doesn't want it. He wouldn't know how to declare himself a willing equal instead of 'prey'."

"And if I explain to him? Would you accept his submission as valid then?"

"I _might_. The law certainly will not."

"That's ludicrous. What kind of law condemns a warrior for taking willing prey?"

"Humans see things differently, Mama. To them, 'hunting' youngsters is the same crime as interfering with a small child, and from what I've seen of the behaviour of my young human friends, it's not an incorrect assessment. Despite the heating blood and developing bodies, Pixel, Stephanie and Trixie _are_ still children. Submission would be taken, not given."

Mama sagged visibly, and swore in Fey, a rather strong curse-word complex with an English translation that was, approximately, 'purple fuzzy magical kittens'.

Sportacus put an arm around her shoulder and led her back towards the town.

* * *

In my original plotting, Nina and Pixel actually did have intercourse _before_ Sportacus found out and blew up at her about it. Needless to say, enough of you seemed freaked out by just the banana sequence (which _wasn't_ in my original plotting, it just sorta happened) that I didn't think it would be a good idea to keep. As a result, I had to do some reworking, which slowed this chapter down a lot. I ended up cutting off the next scene because it wasn't finished, and I decided you'd waited long enough and it didn't need to be in this chapter (though I really would have preferred not to end the chapter on this particular note). 


	7. Chapter 7

You know those moments when you realise that the best word in your dialect might not be even used in others? OK, since there's a good chance you're American, probably not, but I had that in the second scene. 'Doona' is a genericised brand name meaning a thick quilt that is used alone, such as the one Sportacus uses on the airship. Wikipedia tells me it's a duvet or comforter in other dialects of English (and dýna in Icelandic), and that they're the most popular bed covering in Scandinavia (hence the use in Lazytown, I guess).

I've just noticed there are some 'smart' quotes, thanks to me typing some of this up in TAFE, where I can't turn them off. If they really frell the formatting, I'll edit and reupload, but I didn't notice until after I put the scene break lines in.

* * *

"Did you get the kids back all right?" Sportacus asked as he dropped into Robbie's home. 

"Yes, yes, they're all fine. Did you find Pixel and your mum?"

"Yes," Sportacus replied, rather shortly.

"Were _they_ all right?" Robbie asked, fairly certain _something_ was bothering Sportacus.

Sportacus said nothing, just started pacing.

"Sportacus," Robbie said, stepping in front of him as he came back, "talk to me. What happened?"

"Mama tried to molest Pixel. If I hadn't gone back then..." he closed his eyes and hugged himself, shaking.

Robbie swore and pulled Sportacus into his arms. "No wonder you're unhappy," he said into the top of his head.

"Mama's behaviour isn't quite as bad as it sounds," Sportacus murmured into his shoulder, wrapping his arms around Robbie's waist. "Physical and emotional growth are more in sync for elves than humans, so Mama misunderstood Pixel's ability to consent. Not that that would have made it any better for Pixel if I hadn't interrupted, especially how the typical elven warrior goes about seducing a presumed non-warrior."

"Hmm?" Robbie asked, intrigued. He wondered if the reason Sportacus hadn't succumbed to his charms previously was that the signals had been wrong.

"Let's just say the word usually used to mean 'seducing' has the literal translation of 'hunting'."

"That's sounds rather ... scary," Robbie said. Too aggressive? Not aggressive enough? Was Sportacus a warrior? He'd casually referred to his mother as such, but was it a matter of temperament, training, occupation, heredity, or what? Did Sportacus expect elven norms to apply to their relationship?

"I can hear you thinking," Sportacus said softly, fondly. "I don't know _what_ you're overthinking, but stop it, it's noisy."

"Sorry. It's just..."

"Shh," said Sportacus, pulled his head down and kissed him. There was no heat this time, just tenderness, more an extension of their embrace than anything like the kisses of that morning.

After a minute, Sportacus pulled them towards the bedroom they'd occupied that morning, and they curled together, exhausted. It was only 7:47, but neither really cared.

* * *

Sportacus awoke with the sun, Robbie still snoring adorably against his chest. He would have been content to let Robbie stay there, for a little while at least, but there were more pressing concerns, like his bladder. He levered Robbie off of himself, and Robbie curled tightly into the doona, seeming to miss the warmth of his body. He tucked Robbie back in, and headed up to the surface, hoping the airship hadn't drifted far in the night. He'd have used Robbie's toilet, but Robbie's place was rather labyrinth-like once one left the main room, and he didn't know where it was.

* * *

"You could have let me know you weren't sleeping here," Mama complained when Sportacus reached the airship. "I would have worried if I hadn't noticed your scent mark on the human boy." 

"Robbie's hardly a boy, Mama," Sportacus replied wearily. He really wasn't in the mood for this. He was still freaked out about what she'd nearly done to Pixel, and now she was calling the clearly adult Robbie a 'boy'.

"Whatever. Aren't you going to take some exercise with your dear old mother?"

* * *

Mama and Sportacus faced off across the basketball court. It was still early enough that the children were nowhere to be seen, something he was pleased about.  
"Ready?" she asked, sword at the ready.  
"Ready," Sportacus confirmed. As ready as he was ever going to be. Gym lessons for non-warriors at school had tended to be more along the lines of pole-dancing than bladed combat, so he hadn't really fought since he'd been moved into the non-warrior stream at age twelve, after he had hidden dinner because he had wanted to keep the poor bunny as a pet. Unless one counted mops, anyway.  
They advanced on each other, and soon Sportacus was focused on the movement, the combat drills of childhood and his natural athleticism allowing him to hold his own, for the moment, as their swords clashed, again and again. He cut high, she ducked, and he jumped, flipping over her, grabbed her, and pressed the blade lightly to her throat.  
"Yield?" he asked pleasantly.  
"You're kidding," she growled, and swung down, catching him in the calf. He gasped and let go, falling to the ground, clutching his leg and swearing under his breath.  
"Sportacus!" he heard Stephanie gasp, to his horror. She didn't need to see this -- there was a reason combat rings in Ætheria were elves only. He concentrated, calling healing magic, just enough to stop the bleeding and relieve the pain, full healing could wait for the time to complete the proper rituals.  
"Yield?" Mama asked in a mocking tone, her body relaxed, sword held loosely. 'Sloppy', he thought. Just because her opponent was wounded and not a true warrior, didn't mean he couldn't still do some damage.  
"In front of a pixie-child who adores me?" he asked in Fey, voice full of counterfeit pain, as he got his sword back in his hand.  
"Would you prefer she see you hurt more?" Mama replied.  
"Of course not," he said, springing back to his feet with a somersault, and knocking her sword from her hand. "Now do you yield?" he asked, standing on her blade, the point of his sword at her throat.  
"I yield," she replied. He stepped back off the blade, flipped it in the air with the point of his, caught it, and handed it back.  
"I wasn't expecting you to do so well," she remarked, combat face off. "Age must be taking its toll."  
"I still think we should have played basketball," he replied. 

Stephanie ran over. "You idiot!" she growled at him when she arrived. "Why did you have to go and scare me like that?"

"I didn't think you'd be up yet," he replied weakly.

"Why _didn't_ you play basketball?"

"I _was _rather insistent," Mama replied mildly.

"And you!" she added to Mama, pretty face alight with rage. "You _hurt_ him."

"If Pixies worried your pretty pastel heads over every 'boo-boo' elves inflicted on one another, you'd never have the time to do anything else."

"Don't patronise me," Stephanie replied in a voice of pure steel. "Aren't you the least bit sorry? He's your _son_."

"A minor wound inflicted during fair combat. You seem to forget he won."

"But he's..." she looked down, and added, puzzled, "Shouldn't you still be bleeding?"

"I used a little healing magic. Warriors usually aren't good with magic, so Mama wasn't expecting it."

"Sit down," Stephanie ordered him, prodding him in the direction of the nearest wall around the playground. The pain was starting to bleed through the magic, and by the time he reached the wall he was limping. He sat gratefully, and Stephanie knelt beside his feet, put her hands on his injured calf and began to chant. Her magical command was impressive, as Sportacus knew, her control nearly as good as his childhood friend Jessica's had been at the same age, despite Stephanie being mostly human and all her magic training coming from a half-elf whose only teaching experience was in his capacity has hero.

She stood, dusting off her knees, and Sportacus glanced at Mama, who looked shocked.

"Don't do it again," Stephanie told him firmly, her words given even more gravity by the remaining magical aura.

"Yes'm," Sportacus replied humbly.

Mama sat shakily on the bench beside him. "She's amazing. The power ... How much human blood has she?"

"Three quarters," Stephanie replied.

"That should be impossible," Mama replied. "Humans don't have magic, so how...?"

* * *

Somebody knocked on the hatch of Robbie's home. "Mr Rotten?" she called after a few minutes. 

"What?" Robbie snapped when he reached the top of the ladder, throwing the hatch open. The someone was a woman, dark-skinned and carrot-topped, with extremely curly hair, and a t-shirt that looked a lot like Pixel's except that the name shown was 'Peta'. She also seemed to have a similar predilection for gadgetry.

"I'm Peta Byte, Pixel's mom. Pixel said you needed help with something."

"Something?" Robbie echoed dubiously.

"Something you were working on. You went to him for help, but he lacked some ... uh ... technical knowledge, if you get my drift."

"I see," said Robbie, "I'm Robbie Rotten," and offered his hand to shake. She took it, and their hands met in the Order of Warlocks' secret handshake. "Do come in," he added, dropping back down the shaft.

"Pixel said you had some difficulties with something you were trying to enchant? It was physically sound, but he wasn't trained well enough to check the magical soundness," Peta said, once she'd picked herself up off the floor at the bottom.

"Yes. But I don't recall seeing you in town, and I thought Pixel said that he and I were the only non-Fey magic users in Lazytown."

"You are. I live in Slothsville. Pixel's other mother and I have been separated since he was quite small, and she's not a warlock, nor very sympathetic. Had the nerve to call me a _racist _once for thinking that the Fey are dangerous. I'm here to pick him up for visitation, but he's still packing."

"He wears identical clothes everyday. How long can that take to pack?"

"'Essential' data, mostly. Magic alone knows what he thinks is essential, but kids do tend to be secretive."


	8. Chapter 8

"I see!" Peta exclaimed. There was a flash of magical light, and Robbie could tell that _now_ it was functional.

"Planning to test it?" she asked.

Robbie shook his head.

"So, _why_ did you want to invent a machine capable of changing someone's sex?"

"Just theoretical. Wanted to see if it was possible."

Peta gave the costume tubes a significant glance. Out of the five tubes, two showed women's clothing. Robbie felt his face heat. That hadn't even occurred to him.

"It's not for me. I just like dressing up."

"But wouldn't a temporary body change be the ultimate dress-up?" Peta asked, a sparkle of mischief in her brown eyes.

"I suppose..." Robbie said, and before he could object, she pointed it at him and pushed the button.

"What did you do that for?" he yelped. A quick catalogue of the changes told him that he was shorter and had smaller feet (his pants were now too long, and his shoes were loose), the seat of his pants and his vest were both tighter, and a pat down his body told him that his pants would be falling down if they weren't high-waisted, as his natural waistline had shrunk, though his lower abdomen was a lot rounder.

It was then that he heard the hatch opening.

"Turn me back now!" he hissed, which Peta thankfully did, then put it down.

* * *

There was the thump of somebody landing, and then a voice that was unmistakably Ætherian-accented said "Hello, Robbie." Unless the person was a very lucky Icelander who'd made it out past the magical curtain, he was an elf or a pixie, and while the tone was somewhat seductive, it wasn't the magically-enhanced enticement of a pixie on the prowl.

"Sportacus!" Robbie replied joyfully. That was an elf name, Peta knew, that of the elf who kept an eye on borderland Slothshire's villages for the Ætherian government under the guise of protecting them. She felt sick. Robbie, who she'd thought to be quite a nice warlock, was a filthy elf-shagging traitor.

She pasted on a smile and turned around to greet her elven overlord.

* * *

"Did you get Robbie's thing finished?" Pixel said as he got into the car. Peta sighed. The last thing she needed to think about now was that traitor and his predilections.

"Momma?" Pixel asked again, as they drove out of Lazytown.

"Yes, we got it finished, but well, after we got done, his boyfriend showed up."

"What's wrong with that?" Pixel asked.

"He's that _elf_ that hangs around Lazytown, that's what's wrong with that." There was silence, so she glanced over at Pixel, and saw his eyes were wide and hurt.

"Kid-Pix, what's up?"

"You know I like Stephanie," he said accusingly.

"That's _hardly_ the same thing. The biggest danger with pixies, assuming their elven friends don't take offense to you and try to break your _head, _is getting your heart broken, which can be easily avoided by remembering it's inevitable. Sex with elves, on the other hand, is a dominance game from beginning to end. Mr Rotten has allowed himself to be prey to that elf, even if he doesn't know it yet, and he ought to, being a warlock."

"Momma?" Pixel said quietly. She glanced over, and he was staring at his hands, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Yes?" Peta asked. She glanced over again when he didn't answer. He had his eyes shut, and was shaking his head. She pulled over.

"Pixel? Come on, mini-me, what's the matter?"

"That's what _she_ said," he said very quietly. "That I was prey."

"She? What are you talking about?"


	9. Chapter 9

Politics, yay! Yes, that was sarcastic.

This chapter presupposes in two places that you've read Family Resemblance, so go read it if you haven't already.

Also, don't get excited about the jump to an M rating. It was already skating close, and the content that made me decide to take it over is _not_ SportaRobbie. It does mean I can go back and change some language in previous chapters that I wasn't happy with.

* * *

"She didn't like me, did she?" Sportacus asked once Peta had gone. 

"I don't think so," Robbie replied.

Sportacus sighed. "The war was 400 years ago. You'd think people would be over it by now."

"What about Iceland?"

"What about it? It's been semi-independent for nearly 100 years," Sportacus protested.

"So why do 90 percent of the hoops an Icelander needs to jump through to go abroad belong to the Ætherian government?"

"Because even semi-independent, they're still Ætherian subjects, and –"

"Exactly. _Subjects. _Not citizens."

"Well, you've got to be Fey to hold full Ætherian citizenship."

"And why is that?"

"Because Ætheria is the Fey nation. I would have thought that was obvious."

"Lethargia is a human state, and yet Stephanie and Bessie are both citizens."

"Well, they're both Quarterlings, and Bessie's _legal_ father was human, anyway."

"And you, Sportacus Half-Elven? Do you hold full Ætherian citizenship?"

"I would, but I'm not a warrior."

"Now, why is that?"

"I don't know!" Sportacus snapped. He took a deep breath and stepped back. "I didn't come here to argue about politics."

"Then what _did_ you come to argue about?" Robbie asked. "Or was this a booty call after running off in the middle of the night?

Sportacus stared at him unbelievingly. He picked up his backpack, tipped its contents on a bench, and stomped out.

Robbie stared at the pile of similarly shaped objects Sportacus had left, and picked one up gingerly. He'd bought him a Mars bar? And ... other things. Robbie was fairly certain the _bananas_ weren't for him, but what_ else_ was a pre-op transman with a cismale partner going to do with a strap-on?

* * *

Milford walked into the office in the town hall to find Bessie sitting at the desk crying. He hurried over. 

"Ms Busybody? Whatever is the matter?" he asked, heart aching for his beloved's pain.

"Oh, Milford!" she wailed, and latched onto him, crying into his shoulder. He rubbed her back soothingly, trying not to enjoy the feel of her curves against his body.

"They found her," Bessie added, low enough that Milford wasn't sure her words were for his ears.

"Found who?" Milford asked, almost despite himself.

Bessie pulled away and sat down again, and Milford produced a handkerchief for her, as a gentleman ought.

"Do you remember when I went to stay with my aunt for a year when I was 15?"

Milford nodded.

"I ... the reason I went away is because I was having a baby."

"Oh, said Milford, repressing the jealous urge to ask who the father had been. There'd _been_ no-one else then, and there was no-one else now, so he obviously wasn't important.

"I gave her up for adoption. My aunt offer to support me and the baby, but I wanted to come back to Lazytown, and mom didn't want people knowing. After that she-pixie messenger showed up a few years ago from my biological father's family, I realised that my own daughter might want to know her real heritage, so I started looking for her."

"I see," said Milford.

"And ... I managed to find the agency that placed her. She didn't find a home until she was three, so she kept the name I gave her, Alexandra Elizabeth. They've promised to forward correspondence between us, so that we can get to know each other."

'That's great," said Milford, pleased for her.

"Isn't it?" Bessie asked happily. She stood again and hugged him, and he pulled her close, this time revelling in the soft press of her against him.

"Ms Busybody," he murmured contentedly into her hair.

She looked up. "You don't think any less of me, Milford?" she asked, a vulnerable expression on her face.

"15 is barely more than a child," he told her seriously. "How could I?"

"Oh, you wonderful man," Bessie declared, and kissed him.

* * *

Today was going horrendously, so far. First up, he'd been injured by Mama in front of Stephanie. Then he'd fought with Robbie. Now, he'd just remembered that compulsory notification of abuse applied to heroes. The mayor was the law in Lazytown, so he _had_ to tell him about Mama and Pixel. 

Sportacus sighed, and opened the door of the town hall.

The sight that greeted him was shocking. Bessie was on the desk, blouse open and skirt pushed up, face the picture of pleasured abandon, legs around the mayor's waist, and her hands tight on his shoulders, while his face, although hidden by her shoulder, appeared to be buried in her bosom. It was almost as bad as discovering Mama and Pixel had been, though at least in this instance Sportacus was quite sure that both participants were consenting adults, and that neither was his mother.

The mayor looked up at the sound of the door. "Sportacus!" he exclaimed, pulling back.

"What?" Bessie shrieked, turning towards the door, and giving Sportacus an unwanted eyeful of middle-aged female.

"I'll ... wait outside," he said diplomatically, and pulled the door shut again.

"Well, that was embarrassing," Bessie said, once Sportacus had gone again.

"I'm sorry," Milford mumbled.

Bessie paused in her rebuttoning. "What for, you silly man? I started it, and I was just as aware as you that the location was inappropriate and too public.

"It would be completely private, and far more appropriate if you were to, say, come to my house for 'supper' once Stephanie is in bed."

"Oh," said Milford. "Yes, Ms Busybody, of course."

"I think _Milford_, you'd best get used to using my given name. I'm sure it's much easier to scream."

"Yes. Yes, of course Ms... Uh, _Bessie_."

"Much better. See you tonight?"

Clothes now righted, Bessie left.

A few minutes later, Sportacus came back in.

"Sorry about that, Sportacus. I hope it wasn't urgent."

"No, Mayor, it wasn't urgent."

"So, what is it?"

"It is my duty as an Ætherian government commissioned hero, to inform you, Milford Meanswell, as upholder of law and order in Lazytown that yesterday I witnessed an indecent assault on a minor."

"Oh dear. What happened?"


End file.
